


Languorous

by BiffElderberry



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Erectile Dysfunction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/pseuds/BiffElderberry
Summary: "What the ever-loving fuck was that!?”Geralt’s head snapped up as he heard Jaskier. The entire tavern quieted down as patrons stared at Jaskier. It was good though, Jaskier had always enjoyed an audience. Jaskier moved to lean against the bar beside Geralt. It was a perfect spot. The witcher would have to go through him to getaway.“I don’t want to talk about it,” Geralt growled.“No,” Jaskier replied, still projecting his voice.  “You don’t get to blow my goddamn mind, then give me a concussion because I tried to return the favor and then never talk about it again. So I’ll ask again, what the fuck was that?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 271
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Languorous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xXx_hmm_xXx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXx_hmm_xXx/gifts).



Jaskier gasped, his fingers digging into the bark of the tree. He wasn't sure what he had said to make this happen, but he certainly wasn't protesting. There he had been, pondering through the lyrics of his next ballad, when Geralt had pushed him against the tree and kissed him hard.

Jaskier had kissed many people in his life, but no one had left him feeling as breathless as Geralt did when he finally pulled back. Jaskier wasn’t even sure he could stand if it were not for the tree he was leaning against.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he gasped as Geralt slid to his knees in front of him. “But I am going to sing songs about your mangificancy-” He broke off as Geralt massaged his cock through his pants.

“You talk too much,” Geralt growled as he tried to work the many buttons holding Jaskier’s pants up. “And you wear too much clothing.”

Jaskier started to respond but all that came out was a broken groan as Geralt mouthed at his cock through his pants. He was going to come embarrassingly fast at this rate, and possibly ruin some very expensive trousers in the process.

“They aren’t that hard,” Jaskier replied, pushing Geralt back every so slightly. Geralt glowered up at him. It was the kind of look that would make lesser men tremble. But Jaskier had already been traveling with Geralt for years and he knew that Geralt didn’t mean anything by the look.

Jaskier quickly undid his trousers. Geralt’s hands tangled with his as he helped him push them down to his thighs.

“Fuck!” Jaskier gasped, slamming his head back against the tree as Geralt swallowed his cock. He buried a hand in Geralt’s hair, holding on for dear life.

“I am going to-” Jaskier gasped as Geralt swirled his tongue around his shaft. “Write so many ballads about you- Fuck.” Jaskier wasn’t sure how much longer he could last like this. Geralt tongued his slit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. His knees were trembling, threatening to go out and send him crashing to the ground.

Geralt pressed his forearm against his stomach, holding him back up as he took all of Jaskier’s cock in his mouth. Geralt stroked a hand between Jaskier’s legs, pressing just behind his balls.

“All of the things,” Jasker continued to ramble. “By the time I’m done everyone will want a piece of you.” He ran his fingers over Geralt’s hair, tugging at the tie that held it back. He ran his fingers through the witcher’s hair, enjoying the feeling of the silky strands between his fingers.

“Geralt, Geralt!” Jaskier said, tugging Geralt’s hair. “I’m gonna- Fuck!”

Jaskier groaned as he came. His knees shook, finally giving out as pleasure crashed through his body. His fingernails dug into Geralt’s scalp as his life flashed before his eyes. The only thing holding him up was Geralt’s arm.

Geralt swallowed him through it, carefully cleaning his cock with his tongue before finally pulling back.

Jaskier slid down the tree as Geralt scooted back, giving him some room.

“That was-” Jaskier panted, trying to catch his breath. His orgasm had exhausted him.

“Have I finally made you speechless?” Geralt chuckled.

“I should-” Jaskier said, leaning forward. He kissed Geralt gently. “Return the favor.”

“You don’t have to,” Geralt shrugged, trying to get up. Jaskier kept his hands on his shoulders. He pushed Geralt back. He was under no delusion that he could manhandle the witcher, but Geralt willingly let Jaskier push him down.

“I promise I’m good,” Jaskier said. “I may not be quite as good as you are, but I’m not exactly a blushing virgin.”

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed, but said nothing as Jaskier ran a hand down his body. Jaskier was going to blow his mind. It was only fair, after all. He still felt weak from his own orgasm, but it was only right that he try to return the favor.

“I-” Jaskier said as he rubbed his hand over Geralt’s cock. Something was wrong. Geralt was completely flaccid. Jaskier himself had never given a blow job that hadn’t resulted in him at least being a little interested in some form of reciprocation. Nor had he ever been blown like that by someone without interest.

“Just leave it be,” Geralt said softly, his arm thrown over his eyes. But he didn’t resist as Jaskier undid the fastening of his pants enough to slide a hand in. Sure enough, Geralt wasn’t hard. He wasn’t even wet as if he had come in his pants.

Jaskier rubbed his cock, sliding his fingers over the head. It was an awkward angle, trying to jerk him off in his pants, but Jaskier thought he did a fairly magnificent job at it. And yet, still, Geralt wasn’t hard.

“Jaskier, it’s not going to happen,” Geralt said, a little louder this time. Jaskier pulled his hand out of Geralt’s pants, but instead of stopping, he pushed them down, pulling Geralt’s cock out. It was magnificent, even flaccid. Jaskier had never wanted to ride a cock more in his life, and there had been quite a few offers.

“I can do this,” Jaskier said. “Maybe it just takes a bit longer for you to get going, give me a moment.” He leaned down and licked at the head.

“Jaskier, stop!” Geralt practically yelled. He pushed the bard back as he scrambled up.

Jaskier flailed as he fell back, hitting the tree hard. He winced, touching the back of his head. There was no blood, a small blessing indeed, but still his head hurt. However, the way Geralt was looking at him hurt worse.

A mixture of terror, sorrow, and confusion flitted over the witcher’s face as he looked down at Jaskier. Jaskier watched as Geralt hitched his pants back up and tucked his cock away.

“Is it- do you not want me?” Jaskier asked as Geralt redid the fastenings on his pants.

“I-” Geralt started. He ran a hand through his loose hair, knocking a few leaves out. “I can’t-” He huffed before turning and walking away.

“Fuck,” Jaskier sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree. He could hear Geralt mounting Roach and riding away, leaving him in the clearing. It would be okay- it wasn’t the first time Jaskier was alone in the woods. He would catch up with Geralt eventually and find out what had just happened. He just needed a moment first.

\---

It didn’t take long for Jaskier to find Geralt again. In his time with the witcher, Jaskier had noticed that Geralt had a certain lack of people skills, especially when stressed or upset. So it really wasn’t that hard to follow the line of pissed off locals to a nearby town. Then to the nearest tavern that boasted cheap rooms and cheaper ale.

Sure enough, Geralt was there, sitting at the corner of the bar with his back to the door as he drowned himself in cheap ale.

“What the ever-loving fuck was that!?”

Geralt’s head snapped up as he heard Jaskier. The entire tavern quieted down as patrons stared at Jaskier. It was good though, Jaskier had always enjoyed an audience. Jaskier moved to lean against the bar beside Geralt. It was a perfect spot. The witcher would have to go through him to get away.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Geralt growled.

“No,” Jaskier replied, still projecting his voice. “You don’t get to blow my goddamn mind, then give me a concussion because I tried to return the favor, and then never talk about it again. So I’ll ask again, what the fuck was that?”

Geralt didn’t answer him, just hummed low in his throat. Some of the other patrons turned back to their own drinks, not wanting to gain the witcher’s ire. But Jaskier wasn’t giving up yet.

“Was it pity that made you do it? Because I promise I get plenty on my own, I don’t need you to give me a handout,” Jaskier continued. “I probably get more than you do, anyways. So you don’t have to indulge me.”

“It’s not-”

“Then what is it!?” Jaskier asked again.

Geralt slid off his barstool. It was only then that Jaskier realized what a bad idea this may have been. It had been easy to forget in the woods with his cock in Geralt’s mouth just how intimidating Geralt could be. Jaskier vaguely wondered if he was going to get sucker-punched again, or worse, a sword to the gut this time.

Jaskier squeaked as Geralt lunged forward. The witcher wrapped one arm around his waist, dragging him up and throwing him over his shoulder. The tavern patrons laughed as Geralt carried Jaskier off.

“Put me down, you great lummox!” Jaskier yelled. He flailed, but Geralt seemed unfazed by his motions. He couldn’t see where they were going, but he recognized the stairs leading to the rooms upstairs.

He heard Geralt open and close a door before he was finally dropped unceremoniously onto a hard mattress.

“Okay? Are you going to talk now?” Jaskier asked, crossing his arms over his chest. At least Geralt wasn’t as likely to kill him now - if he had wanted to he would have done that in public.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Geralt said finally.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier assured him. “Just confused.”

“Aren’t you always?” Geralt smirked. But the humor fell off his face almost as soon as it showed. “I do like you. And that’s why I couldn’t resist doing what I did. But I can’t-” Geralt’s words caught in his throat. He looked away. “I can’t be with you in the way you want me to.”

“Geralt, I don’t understand,” Jaskier said.

Geralt signed. He sat on the bed beside Jaskier. His hair fell in his face as he stared between his knees at the floor.

“It was the mutagens, from the witcher trials,” he said softly. “They broke me. I can’t get hard anymore.” His voice broke off at the end.

“Hey, hey, you’re not broken,” Jaskier said, gently running a hand down Geralt’s back. Of all the things he had expected the witcher to say - that Jaskier was too loud, or too much, that he didn’t like him that way, or that he really was just blowing him to get him to shut up - this hadn’t even made the list.

“Geralt, I don’t like you just because I wanted to ride your cock. I like you because you’re you, all of you. You’re kind, despite what others may say, and fair, and can look past other’s flaws in a way that many can’t. I like to think we’ve become friends in the past years and I want to be more.”

He gently cupped Geralt’s cheek, turning him so he could see his face. He caressed Geralt’s strong jawline, feeling his slight stubble under his fingertips.

“There are so many more things we can do together that don’t involve cocks, but if you don’t want to have sex with me because of this, that’s perfectly fine. There’s more to being with someone than sex, and I want to be with you.”

“I’d like that too,” Geralt said, still soft like he was afraid Jaskier was just an illusion.

Ever so slowly, Jaskier leaned in. His lips met Geralt’s in a gentle kiss. His thumb caressed Geralt’s cheek as they kissed, encouraging him. He let Geralt take the lead, opening his mouth when Geralt licked his lips, letting Geralt pull him into his lap.

“Get this off,” Geralt said, tugging at the base of Jaskier’s doublet. Jaskier quickly undid the buttons, his fingers slipping slightly as he worked and slid out of his clothes. While he worked, Geralt slid his own tunic over his head.

As soon as Jaskier was shirtless, Geralt pulled him back onto the bed with him. Jaskier gasped slightly, landing on his lover’s broad chest. He kissed Geralt right above one of his pecs, his hand already exploring his lover’s body. He pressed hard against Geralt’s muscles on his side, feeling them shift and jump beneath his lover’s skin.

“Fuck,” Geralt gasped, as Jaskier licked one of his nipples. Jaskier sucked on the little nub of flesh, feeling it stiffen beneath his ministrations. He carefully nipped it, drawing a hiss of pain from Geralt, before switching to the other one.

Geralt caressed his face, holding him against his chest as Jaskier teased the other nipple. Jaskier nipped the skin above Geralt’s nipple before pulling back.

“Is this okay?” Jaskier asked, shifting so he straddled one of Geralt’s thighs. Jaskier was already hard, his cock pressing against Geralt through his pants.

“Yes,” Geralt replied, crooking his knee slightly to push his thigh up for Jaskier to grind against. Geralt’s eyes were blown wide with arousal despite his cock still being flaccid.

Jaskier groaned, lining himself up against his lover’s hard thigh. Geralt placed a steadying hand on his waist, helping support Jaskier as he ground against him.

Jaskier leaned forward, one hand supporting him on the bed while he rocked against Geralt. His other hand ran teasingly down Geralt’s chest.

“Can I?” he asked, his hand hovering over the closure of Geralt’s pants.

“Just don’t expect much,” Geralt replied. He lifted his hips, helping Jaskier slide his pants down. True to his words he was still soft.

“God you’re beautiful,” Jaskier breathed. He dragged his fingers over the crease in Geralt’s thigh, carefully avoiding his cock as he worked his way up his chest. He dragged his fingers back down the other side. He carefully stroked the head of Geralt’s flaccid cock, drawing a gasp from the man.

“Good?” he asked. He continued to rub the flesh as Geralt nodded. This he could work with. He slid his hand lower, fondling Geralt’s balls. They were heavy in his hand, and each touch dragged another noise from Geralt.

Finally, he slid lower. He stroked a finger over his perineum, pressing against the tender flesh there.

Geralt gasped, pressing his thigh up harder against Jaskier.

“Like that?” Jaskier asked, rubbing the flesh there. “Just wait, it gets better.”

“Doesn’t seem possible,” Geralt replied.

“Fuck, I need-”

Jaskier climbed off Geralt and looked around the room. He had left his bags tied to Roach’s saddle. Which wouldn’t be a problem except it looked like Geralt hadn’t brought them up. Not only were all his possessions probably stolen already, but he didn’t have his nice scented oil.

“What are you looking for?” Geralt asked, rolling on his side to look at Jaskier.

Jaskier moaned at the sight. If he was ten years younger, he’d probably come just by the look of Geralt, his eyes blown wide with lust, his hair hanging loose and mussed around his face. He was panting slightly, one of the few times Jaskier had ever seen him worked up, and Jaskier had seen him many times post-battle.

“We need some oil,” Jaskier said. “All my oils are in my bag.”

“Front pocket of that bag,” Geralt said, pointing to the bag near the wall. Jaskier scrambled to the bag. Sure enough, there was some of the oil Geralt used to polish his leather.

It wouldn’t be quite as nice as chamomile, but it would certainly get the job done.

Jaskier climbed back on the bed. He quickly coated his fingers with the oil, barely remembering to cap the vial before dropping it on the bed.

He leaned forward, kissing Geralt as he carefully circled Geralt’s hole with his finger. Geralt gasped into the kiss as Jaskier’s finger slid into him. Jaskier slid his finger in and out for a few strokes before crooking it.

“Fuck,” Geralt gasped, breaking the kiss as Jaskier found his prostate.

“Good?” Jaskier asked, pulling away to get comfortable between Geralt’s knees. His own cock was hard enough that Jaskier wanted nothing more than to make this quick, but he needed to make this good for Geralt. And so he took his time opening him up.

As he slid his second finger in, he toyed with the head of Geralt’s cock with his free hand. He couldn’t quite manage to give him a handjob with him still being flaccid, but he was driving Geralt wild. Little gasps and moans fell from the witcher’s lips.

Jaskier kissed the top of Geralt’s knee as he slid a third finger into him. Jaskier rubbed his fingers against Geralt’s prostate as he pressed his thumb to his perineum. He drew a keening gasp from Geralt as a small dribble of pre-come escaped his cock.

Jaskier leaned forward, tonguing at the head of Geralt’s cock.

“Ah! Jaskier!” Geralt gasped. He sunk his fingers into Jaskier’s hair, holding him there. His hips were twitching, fucking himself back onto Jaskier’s fingers.

“Gods, I want to fuck you,” Jaskier gasped, pulling back. He was so hard he wasn’t sure he would last more than a minute in the witcher’s tight hole, but he wanted it so much.

“Do it,” Geralt said.

Jaskier didn’t need any more encouragement. He uncorked the oil, hissing slightly as he poured the cool oil on his cock. He barely took a moment to spread it around before scrambling to line himself up with Geralt’s hole.

“Geralt, ah,” he gasped as he slid into his lover’s body. Geralt was tight and warm, squeezing his cock with just the right pressure.

“Fuck,” Geralt swore, his own head pressed back against the pillow. Jaskier felt he looked a bit like an angel like that, his silver hair splayed across the pillow. He would have to remember that for a ballad later, though perhaps this one he would keep to himself.

Jaskier started thrusting his hips. He wasn’t going to last long. Not with the way Geralt kept gasping and moaning. It was like music to his ears.

Jaskier stroked Geralt’s cock, getting the best grip of it he could as he tried to angle his cock to hit Geralt’s prostate. Geralt gripped the headboard of the bed, using it as leverage as he thrust back against Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped, his eyes closed. His body tightened like a vice around Jaskier’s cock. He thrust himself a few more times, losing his rhythm with a guttural moan. Jaskier stroked him through it, barely able to hold on himself.

“Gods, I love you,” Jaskier breathed as his world narrowed into a single point. His toes curled as his orgasm washed over him. He pushed himself as deep into Geralt as he could.

Jaskier collapsed forward. He felt weak, drained. He gently kissed Geralt, letting the witcher pull him close.

“Tell me you aren’t going to write a song about this,” Geralt sighed as Jaskier settled in his arms.

“I make no promises,” Jaskier chuckled. Geralt glared at him, but at least he didn’t push Jaskier out of the bed.

“No, this one I think I’ll keep to myself,” Jaskier muttered, snuggling closer to Geralt. He never wanted to move again, a thought which Geralt seemed to be on board with as the witcher’s eyes drifted closed.


End file.
